


Plums

by AnandaRunner



Series: Each New Moment and The Next Also [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: But just as delicious, M/M, Not as porny as I'd planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnandaRunner/pseuds/AnandaRunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plums are best enjoyed while still firm, but just beginning to soften. Rich, sweet flavor bursting across tastebuds, vivid purple juice dripping down sticky fingers. Pliant lips pursing around the bite, pulling that luscious juice to the surface with a damp, slick sound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plums

Dean likes plums. He likes lots of fruit, actually—not that he'd ever tell Sammy that. He's not the biggest fan of peaches and bananas. Mushy foods just aren't his thing. (Peach pie doesn't count.) A crisp apple, a super-sweet orange, even the tart kick of a lime or the tang of grapes, these are things Dean likes. Berries too, if they're in season. 

And plums, especially black plums. Sometimes it's hard to find time to enjoy them on the road, but send him hunting for 'snack' food and he'll sneak in a few firm plums (hidden in amongst the barbecue potato chips and snickerdoodle cookies) to keep to himself. Give 'em a day or two and they're right at that perfect ripeness.

Dean's thirty pages into a somewhat abused copy of a Brautigan novel, bare feet resting on the edge of the table and rocked back on two legs of his chair, when he sees Cas wander into the room munching on something. He doesn't think anything of it—Cas eats all the damn time now so what else is new—and continues reading. The book is endearing if painful and he smirks at how the narrator kid reminds him of himself in a way he can't quite explain.

What pulls his attention from the story and back to Cas is the sound coming from the far side of the room, something between slurp and suckle followed by a soft moan cut short after half a beat. Cas is staring at Dean, wide-eyed and panicky as the plum nectar drips down the side of his thumb. Dean lowers the legs of his chair to the floor slowly and dog-ears the page of his book for later, tossing it onto the table as he stands.

He crosses the room slowly, eyes locked on the purple fruit in Cas' hand. Cas is rooted to the floor where he'd stopped to enjoy the taste of one of Dean's carefully-chosen plums. There's a moment, a tipping point somewhere in Cas' head and Dean can see the exact second he decides to do it. It's in the way his eyes—still inhumanly blue even now he's not an angel—narrow fractionally and in the tiniest twist to one corner of his mouth, and then he closes his mouth over the exposed fruitflesh and takes another bite.

Plums are best enjoyed while still firm, but just beginning to soften. Rich, sweet flavor bursting across tastebuds, vivid purple juice dripping down sticky fingers. Pliant lips pursing around the bite, pulling that luscious juice to the surface with a damp, slick sound. That sound is what draws Dean nearer and nearer still and as he closes in he swears he can taste that fucking plum.

Cas' eyes are still smiling when Dean backs him toward the wall and pins him there with his hips and an arm on either side of Cas' shoulders. Cas swallows the bite of plum and grins again, the nectar staining his lips just slightly, just enough that Dean sees it and can't look away.

Dean knows Cas sees his fixated gaze, he knows and he doesn't care, and he doesn't care how obviously aroused he is just because of Cas eating a plum. Wait. Plums. The switch flips in his head and he remembers the only plums in the whole house were the ones he'd stashed in the coldest corner of the refrigerator. “Cas, uh, that plum...” Dean starts, pulling his eyes from Cas' mouth for the half-second long enough to settle his eyes on the fruit and return to Cas, “where'd you find that?”

Cas licks his lips, slowly, deliberately, forcing Dean's attention back to his mouth. “I'm sorry, Dean. I suppose I should have asked first. It looked so inviting,” and Cas is grinning again, and Dean feels his mouth turning up in a smile despite himself. Cas maneuvers his hand between their faces, the tint of juice across his fingertips from the edge of the torn skin.

“So it is one of mine, then?” Dean asks, despite knowing the answer, his tone all taunt and tease, and nips at the plum. Cas' only reply is a quiet, satisfied hum and a small shift of his hips against Dean's as he took another bite.

Dean responded in kind, reveling in the friction and pressure as much as the nectar on his tongue. He moves his hands from the wall, forgoing framing Cas' position there in favor of holding his face in both hands. Dean smiles and kisses Cas again and again, until all he can taste is Cas' lips and the cloying juice of his favorite fruit, the two men rutting against each other with the wall for support, the whole world forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> another askbox fic for [riseofthefallenone](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com)  
> lord help me the day she finds me out lol


End file.
